


Castle on the Hill

by make_this_feel_like_home



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, all fluff because ed is back, castle on the hill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:56:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9231782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/make_this_feel_like_home/pseuds/make_this_feel_like_home
Summary: Harry might have seen many sunsets over the castle on the hill in his hometown, but there was only really one sun that mattered: Louis Tomlinson. A story about finally getting the timing right.





	

**Author's Note:**

> FOLKS Ed Sheeran released 2 songs not 24 hours ago and I can say that its been a long time since one single song has inspired me so much. This is 100% a shameless obsession with Castle on the Hill and my love of Larry. Sorry not sorry.

It was 5:56 a.m. when Harry finally decided that it was an acceptable time to give up on the idea of sleeping (which he'd been failing at since about midnight). Now, with the sun threatening the horizon, it was finally the hour of early risers (or insomniacs) (or people who were too emotionally exhausted to function). (Chalk Harry up to being all three). 

Harry was a millennial. He was now, officially, a member of the boomerang generation. Last week he'd called his mum crying from Liverpool, where he'd been living since he started uni what felt like ages ago. He begged to come home because after the millionth fight, he was pretty sure that he and Craig were done for real this time. They had been living together for the last two years, but the last six months had been—in a word—unbearable.   

Three years ago, just a couple of months before his graduation from uni, Craig had been everything Harry was looking for. Great sex, good conversation, someone to work out with and most of all, he'd made Harry laugh. But, the sex had dwindled, they rarely said much to each other aside from snide comments and outright yelling matches. They _never_ went to the gym together anymore, since they'd started working opposite shifts and bickering had filled all the spaces where there used to be laughter. The last months had been taxing and Harry was exhausted.  

So, Harry's first live-in relationship had taught him one thing: Love fades. It fades into an unrecognizable blob that he really couldn't find the original beauty in whatsoever.  

And now, here he was, back at mum and Robin's, too financially drained to live on his own (yet again, he was happy to be a millennial). (No, he wasn't).  

The only thing he had left of his own was his old pile of rubbish civic that was only one year younger than himself. But, at least there was that. At least he had some semblance of freedom. He also had the gym membership his mother had bought for him yesterday (Harry was a total gym rat) , and that was pretty fantastic. Add those two things together and it was pretty obvious as to what Harry was going to do at 6 a.m. on a Tuesday.  

As Harry drove down the winding old roads of his home town, a sort of calm washed across him. He's was driving too fast, but these roads were so familiar to him. He knew every bend and every bump, because the nice thing about coming home to a barely existent village, was that nothing ever changed. Harry had changed, yes, but this place—the middle of nowhere—it would always receive him back. It would always be the place that made him. That was comforting.  

 

He pulled into the parking lot at 6:09, which meant that he probably did drive a bit too fast, but he was…eager. There was something to be said for starting over in a place that already felt like home. Sure, it could never be the _same_ because Harry wasn't the same, but he felt hopeful. Which was something.  

He flung his gym bag over his shoulder and looked at the sunrise. It was oddly symbolic, him showing up here on the first real day of his starting over on a morning that was actually bright and sunny. His hometown had one big identifier, one that no matter where he went in town, he could see. The castle on the hill, centuries old, held just as many memories for him as the populated parts of town. Everyone in town, including his best friends Liam, Zayn and Niall, used to drink up there before turning 18. It was a tradition in this town. It was where everyone earned their stripes.  

But, now, in the early hours of the morning, with the sun burning behind it, it was more. It wasn't just his past anymore. It was the start of something new, and something brighter.  

He thought back to the summer night he'd had his first kiss on the top of the tower with a boy who was even more utterly pissed than he was. He was sure of this, because on the dozens of times they'd met after that, he'd never mentioned it. He'd acted like Harry was still a stranger, and maybe that was for the better.  

But there are always those people you remember, and no matter how many other names he'd heard in his life, _Louis Tomlinson_ would always stick with him. It was just one of those names, he reasoned. That and maybe the fact that he'd been one of his older sister’s mates since primary school. Add that to the list of reasons why maybe it had always been better that Louis didn't remember that kiss. Other reasons that topped that list? Louis was gorgeous. Insanely so and Harry had spent most of his pubescent years dreaming about the older boy. Also on the list would be the fact that Harry had been a horrible kisser. He wouldn't want Louis to remember that.  

Harry had heard the name _Louis Tomlinson_ in passing for most of his life, and it was just normal. Everything about this place was just normal. It was comforting. Gemma, or Zayn would always update him on all the people he'd grown up with. Most of them had left town years ago. Harry never thought, not in a million years, that he would end up back here. Back here, staring at that castle, remembering that kiss and feeling oddly warm and happy about it.  

But, this was just one of the million memories Harry had of that castle. Maybe he'd get more. He hoped. Hope was good.  

 

He peeled his eyes away from the nostalgia that tugged at his heart strings and made his way to the entrance of the gym. Upon entering the gym, he saw a dark haired man using his arms as a pillow, looking fast asleep on the front desk. The bell above the door chimed, and suddenly, the dark haired boy jumped to life to reveal cobalt blue eyes and a much, much more adult face than the one Harry remembered. But, adult as he now was, Harry was very aware that sitting behind that front desk was Louis Tomlinson.  

Brightly, this handsome (and god, he looked good before, but the scruffy cheeks and bad boy look he had on lock? Yeah, well, Harry's childhood fantasy had grown up, but he now realized, had gone nowhere) older Louis smiled at him. He sat up straight at the desk.  

"Harry Styles," 

"Louis Tomlinson," 

"I didn't realize you were in town, what's the occasion?" 

"There's no occasion, I'm just back...I guess," 

And it was still weird to say, but it was the truth now. He was back, and it appeared, given the fact that he had a job, Louis was back too. 

"How's your sister?" 

"Killing it as a journalist in London," 

He laughed, "she was always killing it, no matter what she did," 

Harry nodded and became very aware of how easy this was. He felt comfortable, despite the storm occurring in his stomach.  

"And what about you, I heard you were married or something, out in Liverpool?" 

Harry shrugged, focusing almost exclusively on the way that Louis was leaning over the desk to speak to him.  

"Nope, not married. Opposite actually. Just did the whole 'break up and lose half your stuff' thing. 0/10, would not recommend," Harry was joking now, and he thought that was pretty good. It was more than he'd hoped for because, his crush was very much alive and he didn't have a smooth bone in his body, "I heard you were living in America?" 

"I was, yeah. Went to school in New York for a couple of years. Somehow, a young, dumb and more reckless version of myself thought that studying accounting in a country where I didn't understand the currency was a great idea," 

Harry was laughing now, he'd forgotten how funny Louis was. Louis had always been the loud one. The one who told the best jokes and made everyone else laugh. Harry remembered thinking Louis was kind of like a ball of sunshine in human form. Bright and so, so alive—but willing to burn when necessary. Louis could be cutting at times, but Harry never minded that part of him (truth told, he kind of found his attitude problem as funny as it was endearing). 

"But now you're back," 

"But now I'm back." He confirmed, "and now, you're back too," 

Harry nodded, having run out of small talk for that day, and just stared at Louis. Louis stared back, and his intensity left Harry a bit uneasy—not that he minded. There were plenty of memories coming to the surface. More, of which he was pretty certain Louis didn't remember. Which was fine. Harry was fine being totally forgettable while standing under the intense gaze of Louis fucking Tomlinson.  

Of course, _that_ was a lie. 

And worse, still, Harry had come here with a purpose. He was supposed to be working out. That meant he was supposed to be wearing little clothing and lifting heavy objects under the watchful eye of one Louis Tomlinson. He felt sick to his stomach.  

"Its kind of sad, though, you know? Coming home after so long—feels like a step back." 

Louis nodded, "I've been back a year. I didn't have a clue what to do with an accounting degree, considering I don't give a flying fuck about accounting. Mum seemed like she needed me, so I figured 'why not'" he was leaning closer and closer to Harry, the more he spoke. "Mum and my dad got divorced a couple of years ago, when I was in America. She got married again though—but there wasn't room for me in the house, so now I'm staying with my dad—its awful. The only thing worse than actually living there, is how much my sisters hate me for 'picking dad'" He pasued. "Sorry," a small smile, "apparently I think you should be my therapist," 

Harry was shaking his head side to like a maniac, "No—doesn't bug me at all. Makes me feel like less of a royal fuck up to be living at home," 

"Darling, if you're comparing your life to mine..." Smile (that fucking _dashing_ smile of his) "I've got news for you: you're probably a fuck up," 

Harry was now laughing properly. Louis was still handsome. He was still funny, and he had definitely called Harry 'darling'. Teenaged Harry was doing a happy dance somewhere inside of Harry's brain. But adult Harry just stared at Louis and kept taking stock of the gleam in his eye.  

"It's funny, seeing you again and all," said Louis, finally.  

"Is it?" Harry didn't have a clue what he was doing.  

"Yeah, it is, because our lives just didn't align for the longest time, and now here you are,"  

There was an unmistakable fondness in Louis' voice. Harry _might_ die.  

"Here I am," 

Harry was leaning on the desk now, too, their bodies inclined toward each other. Maybe there should have been tension or something in the air, because Harry _definitely_ still had that crush, and he hadn't even realized it until he was eye to eye Louis, but there was nothing. No bad feelings, no need to fill the silence. It was just calm and easy, like they were thousand year old souls who had grown completely used to each other.  

Finally, after pushing his fringe back, which was now a messy bang he styled to the side (and not the Justin Bieber flat hair he'd first been so gone for as a teenager) Louis spoke again.  

"Didn't you, like, come here to work out or something? Or is this just strictly a social drop-in?" 

Harry was definitely blushing. Blushing deep and hard because as he looked out at the tiny gym, he realized there wasn't a corner that Louis couldn't see from his desk.  

"I mean," god, Harry knew how to sound stupid. 

"You mean its awkward now—now that you know that the guy at the front desk is your sister's friend that you may or may not have blown in the bathroom at the only pub in town on Christmas holiday a few years back," 

Harry inhaled hard, and then proceeded to drop his jaw on the floor (or at least that's what it felt like). He stared at Louis who just wore a playful grin, like he hadn't just blurted out the most uncomfortable possible thing into an otherwise _friendly_ conversation. But, to be fair, Harry was maybe a little bit flattered that Louis remembered.  

"Yeah, well, that and..." 

Louis' eyebrow shot up, "and?" 

Then, Harry was just a laughing, shrugging mess, "I wanted there to be an 'and' but I've got nothing," 

Louis grinned like he had the winning lottery ticket, "I _maybe_ missed you, Harry Styles," 

Harry stayed quiet then, hoping desperately that he wasn't going to wind up saying the exact wrong thing—though Louis did not seem to share this concern. 

"Well, all I'm saying is that I have seen you in a lot more compromising positions than running a couple kilometers on an elliptical, so being embarrassed is dumb," 

"I'll have you know, I'm not embarrassed to work out...normally. I happen to be very good at it, actually," 

"I figured, I mean I'm not blind." He bit his lip, unabashedly checking Harry out.  

Damn. Harry had spent more of this conversation blushing than he'd like to admit.  

"So," reasoned Louis, slowly and confidently, "I work midnights, which means you have until seven to wrap up this work out thing and then we can do something," 

"That doesn't sound like a question," Harry was playful now, because even if it had been a question, every part of him would have been a 'yes'. 

"It wasn't meant to be," 

Harry stared down at the desk because it was a lot less intimidating than the oceanic eyes that were tormenting him right then. He was still grinning though—he'd probably never stop (and maybe he didn't want to). "You're still as bossy as ever, I see," 

Louis sighed then, a fond sigh. He was fond of Harry and Harry had all kinds of things happening to his insides that he would never be able to put a name to.  

"It's just," he seemed to consider it a moment, "it seems like, for the first time in a long time, things are lining up nicely," 

"Bossy _and_ cryptic," Harry hoped that his sarcasm was a smooth as he thought it sounded in his head. 

"What I mean, is, all those times, when we were younger?" _Ohmygod_ Harry thought, because Louis was definitely talking about that blowjob again. "The timing was shit, but now, I've got nothing but time, and you've got nothing but time and I'd really like to know you, proper, like," he smiled, this time he was blushing a bit, “drunk blowjobs aside,” 

And then Harry just stood there, staring at Louis and remembering that night 5 and a half years ago. It had been the first time since their whole group started uni that they had all been in the same place at the same time. Gemma had been home, Harry had been home and they'd lined up their groups of friends and had gone out to the pub. It was December 23rd and Harry's mum had argued with them that it was too close to Christmas to be nursing a hangover, but they hadn't listened. It was the first Christmas since Harry had turned 18 and it was exciting to go out to the pub with his mates (he'd always been the baby, always the one left out from age restricted activities).  

That night, he and Niall and Liam and Zayn had done probably dozens of shots of tequila between them, and Harry's memory of most of the events of the night were foggy at best. He could remember watching Gemma and Louis dancing like idiots and laughing so, so fondly and remembering the night, years earlier, that he'd been lucky enough to kiss Louis Tomlinson.  

As the night wore on and everyone got drunker and drunker, Harry kept his gaze on the blued eyed boy. If Harry had drank too much tequila, Louis was in deep, deep trouble because he'd probably drank double the amount. Everyone began to clear out of the pub, save from Niall, Gemma, Louis and Harry. Eventually, Louis had taken a seat next to Harry. 

"'s offically December 24," his words were slurred, but Harry didn't mind at all because his head was spinning too fast to process words very well.  

"Christmas eve," 

"'s my birthday,"  

And of course, eighteen year old, sexually liberated Harry (who had given 3 blowjobs total in his entire uni life) was the first one to suggest such an activity. Drunk Harry thought he was an expert, and didn't account for how hard it would be not to choke after so much tequila. Afterall, it _was_ Louis' birthday, and he was completely infatuated with the boy, and Louis was gorgeous. All those things pointed to the inevitible blowjob.  

To date, this notorious blowjob (in the bathroom stall, where they both forgot to lock the door, and _Niall_  had walked in) had probably been the worst blowjob Harry had ever given. But it had been the source for so many things. First of all, it had been the thing that none of his friends had ever let him live down, (" _remember that time you blew Louis Tomlinson on Christmas eve?"_  Was a question that he had been subjected to countless times since the incident), but second of all, it had opened the door to New Years Eve.  

 

But, right then, in that moment, as a 24 year old Harry, he was staring face to face with a 26 year old Louis who was maybe flirting with him? It was hard to tell (so he thought he was maybe flirting back). 

"Well, I might like to get to know you, too," Harry was speaking out loud and he was quite proud of himself because he never knew he could be this brave. "As long as you don't hold said blowjob against me. You should know it was my fourth one ever," 

"Then I suppose you were a natural," 

"Nope, just made sure you were proper drunk first," 

 

Somehow, Harry talked himself into working out a bit after that. Louis had promised to play nice and not stare at him, but Louis was also a really big liar, and Harry felt quite aware of his gaze on him for the majority of his workout.  

After Harry had showered, he made his way back to the front desk, where Louis was now sitting and talking to a young girl that Harry didn't recognize. He made her laugh hard (he did that to everyone, Harry supposed) and she pushed him off the desk as Harry walked up. Instinctually, Harry's arms went out to steady him. Louis grinned up at Harry, their hands clasped together. There was an electrical current running through Harry where their flesh met. Louis dropped one of Harry's hands and reached his free hand out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. Firmly, though, he kept Harry's other hand in his.  

"Rhonda, I'm off to fulfil my destiny," he said to the girl behind the desk, "I'll see you tomorrow morning, same time," 

He was still holding Harry's hand and Harry was _not_  having a existential crisis (that was a lie—he was having every type of crisis) (and it was perfect). Louis filled the silence with all kinds of words. Just small things, as they walked toward Harry's car, like "you smell nice," and "pretty sure the gym just hired me because they knew I wasn't going to wear the equipment out,". When they got to Harry's car, Louis laughed loudly.  

"This thing is ready to die!" 

If there was one thing Harry couldn't accept, it was an insult to his car. Maybe if he was properly angry, he would have dropped Louis hand, but no, there wasn't a reason in the world for him to drop Louis' hand.  

"This," Harry said, gesturing to his vehicle, "is the car of my dreams and she's very, very good to me," 

Louis smile was permanent. Harry was certain of this. Louis tugged his hand until their chests were quite suddenly pressed together.  

"I'd like to be good to you, too, you know?" 

And then Louis kissed him. Just like that. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn't just an hour ago that they'd just met for the first time in years. Louis was bold and brave and he tasted so, so good. And it really didn't feel like it had only been an hour. And Harry realized it had always been like that with Louis. They were two old souls and Harry had missed this. He'd missed the way his big sister's friend made him feel.  

When they broke apart, Harry grinned like an idiot at the perfectly sultry and _together_  look on Louis' face. He quite liked adult Louis and the feel of his beard scraping against his lips and cheeks as they kissed. This day hadn't been what he'd expected, but there was really no looking back from this moment.  

They got into Harry's car and as Harry turned the key in the ignition he looked over to Louis who looked content, like it was the millionth time he'd sat in the passenger's seat next to Harry. Harry moved his hand to the gear shift and felt Louis catch it, stopping him from moving. They looked at each other for a moment and Louis closed the gap without an invitation. He kissed Harry, deeper this time. Louis was a great kisser, and Harry was glad of that because all his memories revolved around Louis positively excelling at this activity.  

Louis pulled back then, releasing Harry's hand, "I told you," he said, pecking Harry on the cheek, "it's all lining up nicely," 

Harry was hot, like boiling and his body was doing things had couldn't really put into words. "I've only been single a day, you know," he said like it was relevant to anything.  

Louis just smiled and slid his hand onto Harry's lap, "well, I'd love to be the one who ruins that for you," 

   
And okay, Louis had kind of just suggested that maybe they should be a thing. Harry was becoming increasingly more skeptical that today was not in fact some dream he concocted from an old crush that never seemed to die down.  

 

The day was perfect. They drank tea and ate pastries inside of Harry's civic (which Louis drove like a lunatic). Louis made Harry laugh over and over and they shared memories of each other from childhood, to puberty, to dreams that Harry felt surprised Louis had.  

"Of course, I always thought about you, Harold," and yeah, it had been only a few hours, but Louis had a nickname for him (Louis was perfect—which Harry maybe had thought a few million times that day). "But, its weird, you know, being the older one. I didn't want to seem like a creep, picking up my friend's baby brother," 

They were parked alongside a farm, staring at cows, which Louis was attempting to name (but he was pretty awful at names). Harry was braver now, since Louis always seemed so willing to say the things that scared Harry the most. But their thoughts aligned.   

Harry stared at the castle, the walls were falling down and virtually non-existent in most places, but it was kind of amazing. Something that lasted the test of time so well, and had seen so many love stories. Harry felt lucky that maybe he'd get to share _his_  love story with it. He couldn't slow down. He couldn't stop the avalanche of feelings that he had for Louis and he didn't want to.  

"Do you remember New Years?" He asked off-handedly. 

"By that, do you mean, 'do I remember the New Years kiss I compared every other New Years kiss to?' Because, the answer is 'yes',"  

"After that night, your birthday, I begged Gemma to take me wherever she was going for New Years because I _had_  to see you again," 

"Well, if you hadn't have come that night, I would have found you. I only wanted to kiss you Harry," 

And then he kissed Harry outside of the field of cows, under the mid-day sun that was toasting his already warm skin in the most inviting way. It was probably the hundreth time they'd kissed that day, as they poured confessions that most people waited years to hear from those people they loved. Harry was lucky. Harry was happy and his timing was so, so prefect and he hoped this day was never going to end. That he would never have to stop kissing Louis.  

"Take me to the castle," said Harry, breath hot and heavy against Louis.  

"Anything that you  desire," Louis practically sang.  

And then they were driving. Or rather, racing. Racing down the winding dirt roads of their tiny home town, destined for the castle that started it all (even _if_  Louis forgot). They laughed as Louis pressed the pedal to the floor and tried to force Harry's elderly vehicle up the steep hill. Everything with Louis felt like an adventure. It all felt light and proper and happy. Harry was maybe just now, at age 24, starting to understand what comfort was. Comfort had a lot to do with the fact that once Louis had parked his car, he'd happily grabbed Harry's hand and began towing him toward the castle.  

They sat on the grass, and everything smelled like summer. Louis smelled like home. Harry relaxed onto his back and Louis mirrored him. He then pulled Harry's head onto his chest.  

"You're kind of perfect, but I kind of already knew that," Louis said things that made Harry's heart just about give out from excitement.  

And then, for the first time since he'd loaded up his car and drove away from Liverpool and all the lessons he'd learned and mistakes he'd made, Harry feel peacefully to sleep. Louis held him close and drifted along with him. 

 

It was late in the evening when Harry woke up with a stiff neck and his own personal sun wrapped around him, whispering his name softly.  

"Harry, look at the sunset," Louis voice was soft and magical.  

The sun was falling slowly behind the castle and this was probably the millionth time Harry had seen the sun rise and fall behind it, but it felt significant. Just that morning Harry had thought about love, about how it faded and got lost, but maybe love wasn't like that at all. Maybe love was meant to rise and fall at the proper times—like the sun—like Louis. 5 years ago, it would have never worked. 2 years ago, while on different continents it wouldn't have worked. Before Craig, before the perspective he had now, it wouldn't have worked. He and Louis had waited their turn. Louis had risen and set dozens of times in Harry's life, but he'd never faded. Now, it was their time. Now everything felt good and settled while they cuddled in front of that castle on the hill. 

"I had my first kiss here," Harry mused, wanting to tell  Louis it was him. That it was always him.  

"Me too," said Louis, "was completely pissed and I'll tell you, it was second only to the New Years kiss," 

Harry laughed, "I think everyone had their first kiss here," 

"But not everyone got to kiss Harry Styles here," 

"Not everyone got to kiss Louis Tomlinson here," 

Louis was quiet for a moment, kissing the back of Harry's neck softly, "and Louis Tomlinson never, ever kissed another boy here, aside from Harry Styles," 

"You do remember," was Harry's only response.  

"Of course I remember, Harold. It was the first. It was the second best, and I'd really like for kissing Harry Styles to be a thing I get to do every day for, I dunno, the rest of forever because I've kind of been madly in love with the boy for, like a decade or so," 

"Harry Styles would like nothing better than to kiss Louis Tomlinson on a very regular basis." 

"Deal," said Louis, taking Harry's face in his hands and kissing him soft and slow.  

As they continued to watch the sun set over the castle, Harry's phone rang. Gemma. He put it on speaker phone and held it between Louis and himself.  

"Where the hell have you been? I came home to see you and mom says you left before she even woke up," 

"I've been busy," 

"With what?" 

"I met someone," 

"Harry, its been 24 hours," 

Harry cut his sister off, "this is the one, Gems," he said as Louis tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear and held him close against his chest. "Ask me his name," 

He could practically hear Gemma rolling her eyes, "what's his name?"  

Harry sighed fondly, staring at Louis and feeling so in love and so light and so _home._ "Louis Tomlinson," 

 

That was how it started, 10 years earlier, standing at the top of the tower of that castle, and that's how it would probably end too, because Harry had learned many things in the last 24 hours, but number one was that  you can most definitely go home. It was foolish and it was reckless, but it was meant to be like this. This was finally their time. 

Harry and Louis were meant to watch all the sunsets they had left over the castle on the hill.  


End file.
